


dark sacred nights

by openended



Series: still we felt bulletproof [4]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bondage, F/M, Rope Bondage, Suspension Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/openended/pseuds/openended
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I was thinking,” she says, “you mentioned a few months ago a traditional Jaffa rope tying?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	dark sacred nights

Sam stares at her cell phone after ending the call, perplexed. Never before has she had an offworld mission postponed because of Earth weather. She’s not one to argue with NORAD weather radar, though, and the blizzard outside is likely to rage for at least another day. Trying to drive to the base would be madness. “Mission’s postponed until Hammond’s convinced we can get to the base safely,” she says, returning to the kitchen.

Teal’c closes the oven door and sets the timer for thirty minutes. “What does this mean for our plans this evening?” They never use restraints the night before a mission; bruises and red lines are difficult to keep concealed offworld and both other team members are observant enough to notice and ask questions they’d rather not answer. But he doesn’t want to assume that their evening plans have changed simply because tomorrow morning’s plans are canceled.

Sam licks her lips and tucks her hair behind her ear; she really ought to get it cut soon. “I was thinking,” she says, “you mentioned a few months ago a traditional Jaffa rope tying?” Teal’c had raised it as a suggestion, but she hadn’t been ready. She’s still not sure why she was perfectly comfortable with him tying her to the bed in four-point, or suspending her from the ceiling by her arms, but had to use their safe word within five minutes of having her arms bound behind her back as he began to knot an intricate design over her stomach and around her legs. But she’s ready now. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous bringing it up.

Teal’c nods. “Kel’tar.” He tilts his head. “Are you certain?”

Sam takes a measured breath and nods. “Yes.”

* * *

She understands that there’s ritual, here, and this isn’t just another night. This is something far more ancient than she can imagine.

Teal’c draws her a bath and leaves her to soak in the bubbles and candlelight. She closes her eyes and leans her head back on the edge of the tub, methodically working her way up from her toes to her shoulders, relaxing each muscle. It isn’t quite meditation, but Teal’c suggested it one night when she was too tense to sleep and she’s considered it a miracle cure ever since. By the time he returns, she’s as relaxed as she can be.

She sniffs, smelling something spicy and exotic, tempting. She realizes that he must have lit the incense in her room.

Everything is special, different, saved specifically for this occasion. The incense, the candles, the rope. She thinks the soap in the bubble bath is hers, though she was cleaning up from dinner while he prepared the bath and she isn’t sure.

Teal’c strips, setting his folded clothes next to her crumpled ones, and gestures for her to slide forward so he can slip in behind her. The water sloshes, but never escapes the tub, and he circles his arms around her stomach. She leans back against his chest and rests her head on his shoulder. Teal’c nuzzles her shoulder and his lips linger on the soft curve of her neck. Sam hums and settles into his embrace, sending small ripples across the water’s surface.

Teal’c dips the washcloth into the water and adds a dollop of shower gel. The lavender scent released by the suds slowly mixes with the smoky incense, adding their own touch to the ritual. He begins to wash Sam, starting with her back. He takes special care with her shoulders, pausing to massage out tension and knots resulting from hours spent staring at a computer or machine. His thumbs press into her palms as he washes her hands; he laces his fingers with hers and slowly rotates her wrists, loosening them for the night ahead.

Sam sits up straighter, letting him position her the way he needs when his hands drop below the water to wash her stomach. The washcloth gently passes between her legs and she gasps, though he doesn’t linger; this isn’t teasing, this is preparation.

He squeezes the excess water from the cloth and hangs it over the soap dish she never uses. He whispers for her to close her eyes and she does. Water cascades down her face and neck and she hears the click of her shampoo bottle. Teal’c’s fingers are strong but gentle in her hair and she sighs.

When all the shampoo is washed from her hair, he slides his arms around her once again. He holds her for a few moments and her hands clasp his. He loosens his grasp so her slender fingers can link with his. He’s always amazed at the gentleness of her hands; he’s seen them kill, but he’s also seen them save.

He kisses her cheek and he stands, water streaming down his body, following paths created by muscle. He carefully steps out of the tub and towels himself off before offering his hand to her.

Sam grasps his hand and lets him balance her as she stands up. She wordlessly steps onto the fluffy rug covering the tile floor and isn’t sure what to expect.

The water droplets caught in her eyelashes sparkle when she blinks. Teal’c can’t resist and he dips his head, catching her lips in a soft kiss. He breaks away and Sam stumbles into him, catching herself with a palm on his chest. He picks up a folded towel from the counter, kneels and starts to dry her, beginning with one leg at a time.

By the time he finishes, Sam’s breathing heavily. He offers her the towel to remove as much moisture as she can from her hair and he opens the drain on the tub so the water runs out. Sam’s hair sticks up when she finishes with the towel and he runs his fingers through the wet locks to smooth them out.

The candles in her bedroom burn yellow and orange and red and she has to stop herself from working out the chemistry in the wicks. Incense smoke hangs in the air and she glances up at the smoke detector; the light doesn’t blink and she knows that he’s removed the battery so they won’t be interrupted. Mild panic courses through her veins until she takes a deep breath and reminds herself that this is _Teal’c_ , who would never put her in harm’s way. There’s another one in the hallway.

His hands skim across her shoulders. “The word remains the same,” he whispers.

Sam nods and lets him lead her to the bed.

* * *

The rope whispers against itself as it uncoils in Teal’c’s hands. She doesn’t know what it’s made of, only that it’s native to Chulak; procedure dictated that they run it through quarantine, but that would require explaining _why_ Teal’c had returned with several coils of black rope along with the candles and incense he said were for kel’no’reem. Sam had smuggled it out of the base for him.

He ties the first knot and whispers something in a language she’s never heard before. He slides the rope up her arms and tightens it, pulling her shoulders back. The rope is soft and warm against her skin, unlike the nylon they usually use. Another knot and another whisper and she settles into her knees on the mattress and closes her eyes.

She feels him tie off the rope at her wrists and wishes she could see what it looks like. She lost count of the knots and loops and her arms are now completely immobile. Teal’c’s hands at her hips encourage her to raise herself up on her knees so he can slide the rope between and around her legs. It’s only when his fingers graze her inner thigh that she realizes how aroused she is.

He secures the ends of the rope through the loops on her shoulders and climbs onto the bed with her. He’s far from done, but he wants to feel her. His fingers dance across her stomach and her muscles ripple underneath his touch. “Are you safe?” he asks, recalling their last attempt. He has no doubt that she will make it known if she feels uncomfortable, but he needs to know for himself that she wants this to continue.

Sam nods. “Safe,” she whispers. The word turns into a gasp as his hands cup her breasts, thumbs tightening already-stiff nipples. As suddenly as they appeared, his hands are gone. A soft blindfold covers her eyes, but he waits for her nod before he ties it behind her head.

She hears him start to loosen another coil of rope. The incense smoke is beginning to go to her head; she isn’t dizzy, but she doesn’t feel quite grounded, either. She lets her head drop forward. She feels almost stoned, like her body is magically light and floating, but her mind remains perfectly clear and in control. Her breath flutters in her chest as Teal’c begins to work with the second rope.

He threads the rope between her arms and back, looping the end through the web created by the first rope binding her arms. When he moves around to her front, he has to pause to take a deep breath and center himself: he can smell her arousal, intoxicatingly mixed with the incense and candles. But he opens his eyes, focused on the woman in front of him who’s put so much trust in his hands.

Teal’c slowly works the rope up and across her stomach in an intricate latticework of loops and knots and twists. The wind howls outside, but his concentration doesn’t waver as he guides the rope around her breasts.

Sam gasps at the pressure; not enough to be uncomfortably painful, but enough to make her squirm. With the ends of the second rope secured, he trails his finger across her skin, tracing the path of the rope on her chest and stomach. She lets out a ragged breath, which turns into a sharp inhale when his tongue sweeps over one nipple, and then the other. His touch disappears again and she hears him begin to uncoil a third rope. She’s beginning to lose contact with reality: she can move her fingers and shift her weight, but she forgets that her hands and legs are there. Everything she feels, everything she senses, is entirely guided by Teal’c.

She bites her lip, muffling a whimper, as another rush of heat pools between her legs at the realization that this is the exact headspace he wants her in, and exactly where she should be. Teal’c’s whispered words are burned upon her mind now, though she doesn’t know what they mean, and soon enough she feels rope against her thighs.

A hitched breath and then, “oh,” as Teal’c threads the rope underneath her and pulls tightly and a knot presses deliciously against her clit. He waits as she breathes, chest heaving with the effort to remain still and not rub against the knot. When she settles, he continues, almost finished. The two ends hang away from the knot and he circles them around her shaking thighs to weave up and secure to the rope across her ribcage.

Teal’c stands back to admire his work. Kneeling on the bed, blindfolded, with her arms bound behind her and rope traversing her torso, Sam glows in the candlelight. She bows her head and her shoulders drop as far as the rope allows and he knows that she’s mentally where she needs to be for the next part.

He brushes the barest of kisses to the corner of her lips before he stands on the bed and collects the long ends of rope dangling from her body; he threads them through the hoops they’ve drilled to her ceiling. He steps onto the wooden chair he’s placed next to the bed so that he has something solid to stand on.

For a moment, Sam’s confused. And then she starts to feel herself lifted. Her eyes roll backwards beneath closed eyelids and her mouth falls open. She slowly tips backwards, parallel with the floor, as the ropes raise her higher. Her legs dangle freely and with each inch, the knot against her clit presses just a bit tighter. By the time Teal’c has her as high as he wants and moves back onto the bed to fasten the ropes to themselves, she’s panting.

Teal’c steps down to the floor and watches her hang in the air. Her head falls back as she squirms, finding the right angles and twists. Soft, pleasured noises escape her lips as she moves, testing her boundaries.

Floating, Sam feels everything else fall away: snow, the base, the rest of her house, the entire world, all gone. She and Teal’c are all that exist. She senses him near her, though she can’t touch or see him. Every nerve stands at attention and she’s so close to the release that’s been building for the past hour. She’s about to beg – a whimpered _please_ at the tip of her tongue – when she realizes that she can do this.

A low moan shudders through her chest: _he wants her to make herself come._

A few seconds of experimentation is all she needs to learn how to cant her hips without bracing herself against anything. The knot pushes on her clit and she writhes, almost there, and then –

Her orgasm tears through her whole body, ripping a scream from her throat.

She strains against nothing and she starts to swing as Teal’c’s carefully-tied ropes pull her through her second orgasm. She moans and cries out inarticulate words as waves crash across her from head to toe and her body tries to push against a bed that isn’t there.

As another orgasm peaks, she blacks out.

* * *

“Are you alright?”

Sam follows Teal’c’s voice and she swims back to the surface. Her eyes open and she blinks, slowly. The blindfold is gone and her vision is blurry until she blinks it clear. She’s lying on the bed, with Teal’c sitting beside her, carefully untying the ropes. Her shoulders ache uncomfortably: she’s on her back, but her arms are still tied. She sniffs the air, heavy with incense but beginning to clear; he’s stubbed them out.

“Samantha,” Teal’c says, more forceful this time.

She drags her focus to his face and she nods, not ready for words.

He cups her cheek and she smiles hazily up at him. Convinced that she truly is alright, he continues untying the ropes. He would have her stand for this, but Teal’c knows that she won’t be on her feet for a while. With the last rope around her ribs removed, leaving red patterns across her skin, he gently rolls her onto her stomach so he can unbind her arms. She turns her cheek onto the pillow and he brushes her hair, now completely dry, out of her eyes before starting on the rope.

“How,” she starts once her arms are released and she turns onto her back again. She can’t finish the question: her throat’s too dry. Teal’c helps her sit up and she rolls her shoulders before accepting the small cup of water he offers. “How long was I out?” She asks after swallowing a mouthful of water. Completely parched, she finishes the rest of the cup.

“Not long,” he says. He’d immediately noticed she was unconscious and had lowered her back to the bed; she’d woken up only a few seconds after he’d started to untie her.

Sam nods, even that much conversation too much for her. She leans her head on his shoulder and notices that most of the candles have been blown out, except for three clustered on the nightstand. She feels completely boneless and understands why the ritual is performed only rarely.

Her head is pleasantly hollow and she has to lie down again. Teal’c lifts the covers for her and she clumsily slides underneath the warm comforter. She slowly turns onto her stomach and rests her head on his chest once he joins her. His palms splay out across her shoulders, holding her close.

“What,” she says and then stops, needing a few tries to form the words properly and in the right order. “When you were tying the knots, what did the words mean?”

“I am unaware of a direct translation,” he admits, “but it is a promise of safety, and a declaration of care and love.”

Sam blinks at him in silence, her cheeks suddenly damp. Dim candlelight dances over his face, full of sincerity. She suspects that it could be two o’clock in the afternoon and they could be sitting at the briefing room table and she wouldn’t know what to say or how to say it. She does the only thing she can do.

She kisses him and hopes that he can sense through her lips that she feels the same.


End file.
